


how was your day, dear?

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Police Brutality, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Some days, Akira struggles to get out of bed; Ryuji does his best to cheer him up.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 97
Collections: Anonymous





	how was your day, dear?

**Author's Note:**

> cleaning out my google docs and this was in it from like 2019
> 
> [inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w0ZJfsjjsI)

“I thought you didn’t like coffee?” Morgana asks, padding around in circles at Ryuji’s feet.

“I don’t,” Ryuji replies as quietly as possible. It was early in the morning, around eight if his internal clock was right, and Akira was still in bed in the other room.

Morgana hops up onto the counter in one swift move. When Ryuji looks over, his head is cocked neatly to the side. Ryuji makes a noise low in his throat before pulling the coffee pot out from the brewer. Honestly, he’s not sure if he’s been doing this right, even though he had watched Akira do it a million times. But it seems easy enough. He could probably figure it out. 

“I hate it when he gets like this, y’know? So I wanna do something nice for him,” Ryuji pours the brewed coffee into Akira’s favorite mug — the one with the goofy, phan-made version of Joker plastered onto it — before he reaches for the creamer. 

Morgana nods, because of course he freakin’ knows. It happens every year, like clockwork. Akira always got so down and depressed during November, and he wouldn’t be himself until spring. Ryuji’s not an idiot, he knows why it happens, because today’s the anniversary of the time he got beat and drugged in a goddamn jail cell, the time a bunch of heartless bastards abused their power over a fucking kid.

He’d only ever gotten bits and pieces of the story from Makoto’s sister. He can remember the aftermath so clearly; Akira had this air of confidence around him, like nothing could ever touch him. Maybe it was real, maybe he faked it, but Ryuji still noticed how Akira was… different. He noticed the black and blue marks that colored his face, a stark contrast against his pale skin. He noticed the crack in the bridge of his glasses that had been crudely glued back together. He noticed Akira flinch when he tossed an arm around his shoulders, and the wry smile that followed. He noticed Akira held everyone he knew at arm’s length, so no one else needed to worry, so no one else had to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders like he did.

Ryuji huffs. No point in dwelling on it now. All he could do now was cheer Akira up. And if a shitty cup of coffee is what it takes, Ryuji promises to do it everyday for the rest of his life.

“Ugh, I don’t know how he can drink that stuff,” Morgana turns his nose up.

“I bet its a lot better when he makes it himself.” Ryuji debates on tasting it, now that he’s added the cream and sugar. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a tiny sip. Ew, yeah, definitely not as good as Akira’s. Super bitter. 

“And I bet yours tastes as good as it smells.” Then, Morgana makes a face and mumbles, “tell him I hope he feels better too, okay?” And with that, he trots off.

Ryuji cradles the cup in both hands as he carries it to the bedroom, being extra careful not to spill any. He nudges the door with his foot, and it unceremoniously swings open, revealing something hidden under the comforter of their shared bed, a mess of black hair just barely peeking out.

“Yo. You awake?” No answer. Nothing seems to move, either. Ryuji calls out again, “‘Kira, you still alive under there?”

The mop of hair perks up, a hand appears out of nowhere to pull the covers under Akira’s nose. Most of his face is still covered, but Ryuji can make out the shape of one of Akira’s eyes. His gaze is unusually sharp, alert. Ryuji resists the urge to fidget.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” Ryuji keeps his voice gentle as he can. The last thing he wants to do is scare Akira off. “How’re ya feeling?”

A blink followed by a half-hearted shrug.

“That bad, huh?”

Akira’s gaze falls to the floor.

Ryuji shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “If it makes you feel any better, I made you coffee. I mean— I tried to, at least.” 

Pushing himself to his elbows, the comforter slides down to Akira’s shoulders, so now Ryuji finally gets a good look at him. His hair isn’t artfully tousled like it should be. Strands of it are sticking up in random places, and there are dark circles deeper than Ryuji’s ever seen on him have. Man, he might’ve just woken up, but the dude looks _exhausted._

“Coffee?” It’s such a soft sound, Ryuji barely catches it, but he sure as all hell’s glad he did. He’s talking, that’s a huge step in the right direction! The most he gets is some hums or a sigh if he’s really lucky.

“Yeah, with cream and sugar. Prolly not as good as how you make it, but…” he trails off, setting the mug on the nightstand. 

Akira snakes an arm out from under the covers to grab it; he’s gotta shift a bit to drink it properly so he lets the covers fall into his lap. Gingerly, he raises it to his lips and takes a sip.

Ryuji cracks his knuckles just to do something with his hands. Pushing Akira to talk isn’t what he should be doing right now, but Ryuji presses on anyways. “How is it? First time making coffee, so I doubt it's anything special, y’know?”

His gaze is trained on Ryuji again. They stare at each other in silence for a moment. Now’s one of those times Ryuji wishes he could see the other’s head, just to get a feel for what he’s thinking. Maybe the drink turned out bad, and he’s completely ruined the good mood Akira had for a little bit. 

Ryuji’s ready to apologize when Akira lifts the cup for a second sip. He— well, he doesn’t exactly smile, his eyes crinkle at the corners, but Ryuji takes it as a win.


End file.
